L'Cie Legacies
by EliteSky
Summary: Memories make up who we are. Fang muses. A story of self-identity, and the transient nature of time. An accompanying piece to Abject Vindication, which was Lightning's POV. The title is a play of words, last seen in Fal'Cie Fallacies, Midnight Sun


The first rays of the sun caressed the grey surface of the Oerban waters. The orange-gold gleam warmed the previous night's cold, spreading gently and surely, lighting up the dark sea in a glittering burst of radiance. A lone woman sat on the steel steps of her porch, enjoying the early start of another day. Tanned fingers wrapped around the metal railings, the athletic figure pulled herself up and stretched extravagantly, heedless of the cold morning air assaulting her bare stomach as her shirt hiked up with her movements. With a slight smile, she bounded off the steps lightly, humming to herself as she ran her fingers through her unruly mop of hair, in a vain attempt to sort out the mess left from a good night's sleep.

As her sandals scuffed on the asphalt, she lost herself in her contemplations of a few things. She marveled at the unfailing occurrence of the rising sun; she reveled in the magnificence of her homeland; she wondered at the cosmic powers that made all things go full cycle. How many times did she, with her own hands, almost bring about the end of a new day? How many times did the pristine landscape of Oerba transform? Even in its white-washed, crystalline end at some point in time, the place still exuded a kind of tragic beauty, like a piece of poetic painting. And just look at it now – Oerba never lost her allure. Like a young woman who had matured in her beauty – and still remained breathtaking - the once destitute village was restored and embellished. It _prospered_ into a glorious city, where the ever present smiles of her people proved that this land was, once more, a good place to live in.

_Where one thing ends, another begins._

She could only think of her life in phases. Like those old, cranky projectors that they used to have, or the embarrassing pictures that Bhakti would annoyingly flash to them on his screen from time to time. Slideshows and snippets; frozen frames of memories with gaps in between. Her early days of uncertainty and turmoil had finally been calmed by the gentle flow of time.

Memories. That's all she had left and all that had kept her company till this day. Her existence in different planes of time was defined by the memories of other people during those times. How she was perceived, how she was remembered. Who was Fang really? Her Oerban kinsfolk from five hundred years past would have unhesitantly declared that she was a revered warrior, daughter of Yun, pride of Oerba. Her viper enemies of Cocoon from five hundred years past would have a different say – that she was the bane of their existence, Pulsian filth, Fal'Cie Anima's puppet, destroyer of worlds. _Ragnarok_. She had only sent a silent prayer to the Goddess Etro then, that Vanille had not remembered her as a hopeless failure, an unredeemable sinner.

With her second awakening, it seemed that everything was reset. She could not recall the past from the point that she literally turned into a monster, and with her ugly, grotesque red claws, ripped the sky of Cocoon open and bled a river of innocent lives. Perhaps it was a small mercy that she could not remember. Perhaps, deep down, she just wanted to forget. To be forgiven. It was with that fresh start that Oerba Yun Fang found herself again, not with blood on her hands, but as a proud warrior with something, no… _someone_ to protect.

And then along the way, in their journey as L'Cies, she had found that she had so much more at stake. Her companions - every one of them was unique and special and important to her. The world that she had tried to destroy, but was now desperately trying to save. The road to redemption was never easy. The faith and belief her comrades had in her was her saving grace, her divine strength. How did Vanille put it? When prayers and wishes turned into promises? It was then that she realized that if memories and perception of others defined her, then the strength of the bonds she shared with them kept her as who she was. Bound her in her place. It was during that space in time that Fang truly believed she could make it happen, save the others and in the process, save and redeem herself.

Her last conscious thought as she faded into oblivion once more, her heart pounding strongly with desperate emotions as a sea of familiar faces swirled in her mind, her limbs clenching futilely as the cold crystal claimed her – _how was she remembered this time?_

The call of seagulls overhead woke her out of her daydream. She had been staring sightlessly out at the sea for a long while with her hands fisted in her pockets, wisps of raven hair blown across her face. The world had gone on without her, even as she stood still. People were now bustling about with their morning chores. She smirked at the irony of it all. The ephemeral nature of their banal existence.

Someone called out to her. She turned around, expectant. Sure enough, the familiar figure with the flaming red hair waved chirpily to her, banishing her dark thoughts away. She could hear the constant stream of chatter even from afar, as Vanille pushed an old lady with silver hair toward her in a wheelchair.

"… and then I was tellin' that old gramps that he had it all wrong. Boy, was he stubborn. I think I haven't met anyone like that since …"

Vanille paused in her random ramblings once she was in front of Fang. "Hey Fang! You're early today! As usual, of course."

Fang ruffled her hair. "You kept me waitin'. Breakfast on ya later." She teased.

"Sure thing! I don't mind. Feel like having waffles today. Sounds good, grandma?"

Fang stooped on her haunches and adjusted the blanket on the old lady's lap, giving her one of her brightest grin. "Since it's Vanille's treat, you should ask for something more indulgent, hmm? Bacon n' eggs yeah?"

The old lady gave them both a lopsided smile as she motioned for them to bring her closer to the sea. Fang took over the handlebars from Vanille as she pushed the chair further into the Oerban white sands.

"Go call the others, ya? I'll meet you guys at Lebreau's later."

Vanille nodded happily and scampered off in the direction from where she came. Fang came to a stop next to a bench, secured the brakes of the wheelchair, before heaving herself down next to the older woman with a sigh. The two of them sat like that in silence for a long time, watching other people stroll along, listening to the soothing sounds of the waves rising and receding against the shore. Rising and receding, rising and receding, the eternal seasons of time.

"You ever took up photography, Fang?"

Fang tilted her head to the side. The old lady held her slightly trembling hand up. Fang instinctively slid her own into hers and squeezed gently, trying to transfer a little of her warmth.

"Can't say I have the interest. Why'd ya ask?"

The old lady gave a chuckle. "Looking at this beautiful scene, I suddenly wanted a snapshot to remember it by."

Fang grinned and used her free hand to tap her index finger against the side of her forehead.

"They say, the eyes are the windows to the soul." She intoned in a mock serious voice. "I say, mine are to take pictures in the mind to store for a rainy day."

That earned her a delightful laugh, the hand in hers held on tighter. The laughter eventually subsided as the old lady used their intertwined hands to knock the side of Fang's head.

"You know how cameras are, Fang. You focus and zoom the lens on a beautiful object to snap pictures with. The object becomes larger than life, even more captivating now that you can see it up close and from different angles."

Her voice turned wistful. "And then you lose sight of other pretty things. What's it called? Tunnel vision? Finally, when you remember to pull out the zoom, you realize that the world is much bigger, the whole big picture more meaningful. Then the background sounds come filtering in, and really, you're taking a video, you know? And the timer just keeps ticking, so as your video roll, you just have lesser and lesser memory space in your camera to store it."

Fang tugged at the woman's sleeve playfully. "What's with all this psychobabble early in the morn', grandma?"

The old lady turned her pale blue eyes at her, the edges crinkling slightly. There was something incredibly sad in her gaze that made Fang want to cringe and hide her face on her lap. She did just that, pulling the wheelchair closer at an angle, laying her head down softly on the blanket across the old woman's lap. She purred in contentment as she felt fingers run through her scalp, tugging gently at her raven mane.

"Nothing Fang. Just thinking sometimes that time is running out."

Fang closed her emerald eyes against the outside world. A tear escaped, unbidden, from her left eye. She let the salty moisture seep into the blanket.

_It's not fair..._

"We had a decade of good memories at least." She spoke against the lump in her throat.

"True, true. That should be all that matters." The tired voice whispered gently.

Fang pulled herself up to kiss the old woman on her weathered cheek, her other hand lost in the thick curls of silver hair.

"Do you hate me?" She asked as she leaned her cheek against the leathery skin. The old woman pulled back to look into her eyes, hand gripping hers tightly as she shook her head negatively.

"Some things are meant to be." The deep gravelly voice said. "Just like it's never a question of can or can't, in life…"

"… it's a matter of the things you do and the things you don't do. Gosh, Claire, do you ever tire of that phrase?" Fang finished for her laughingly.

The old woman shrugged her shoulders, a smile curling her lips. Fang's eyes roamed the withered face hungrily, searching for the ghost of the stunning pink-haired woman she once knew.

"I would've torn down the sky for you, Claire. Blast Cocoon out of the sky a thousand times over. But I didn't know how to get us back."

The old woman didn't meet her gaze, just stared down at their linked hands on her lap. Smooth, ivory skin of youth against her wrinkled pale skin over bones.

"It's enough that you came back in my lifetime, Fang. Etro willing, a few more decades in my life, and I'd die easy."

"Don't say that!" Fang snapped.

It was the older woman's turn to bring their hands together, bringing her papery thin lips to the back of the darker hand.

"Nothing lasts forever. In the back of your mind, you must have prepared yourself that all things would come to an end eventually. It's the inevitable circle of life."

Of course, Fang knew that. She had witnessed helplessly, as one by one, the faces that she held dear ceased to exist within her dimension of time. The inevitable cycle. Like the unstoppable rising of the sun, the unending waves crashing upon the shore, the predictable waxing and waning of the moon. Nothing left, but the memories of what once was.

_The legacies that we write. The battles that we fight. The scars that we hide._

Didn't mean a thing in the end. Didn't mean a thing to anyone else but them. That's all that should matter, wasn't it? She didn't plan to live forever in history.

"Grandma Claire! Stop wasting time dallying with Aunt Fang and come for breakfast!" A voice called. The two of them turned and smiled towards the figure coming to fetch them. A young woman, tall and lithe, with a pride of pink curls cascading across one side of her shoulders ambled over, with a gait that was heartbreakingly natural.

_Where one thing ends, another begins._

Fang felt the heavy weight in her heart spread its wings and fly away, free. If there was one thing she ever learnt in the course of her time, it was this. The here and now moment. Where her existence was defined and etched into the writings of Fate by her loved ones. Vanille, Claire… and all their extensions of love. Somehow, time still flowed. But she would remember to crystallize every single good moment, not letting anything sully the memory, and stash them away for a rainy day. Love that transcended time.

_After all_, she thought, _I think I can handle living on forever in the memory of others._


End file.
